I’m on the bus now. The bus driver is jerking the bus continuously. He puts a heavy foot on the brake so I’ll fall. The lights on the bus are on and the driver also has the heat on the seat in which I’m sitting. It feels like 300 degrees on the bus. Outside, the humidity must be in the 100s. So you can imagine what it feels like. A sweat box. My face is dripping with sweat. The heat hasn’t been put on in a while so I’d forgotten about the heat. In the wintertime, the bus driver puts on the air conditioning. The savages will do anything to make my life miserable. So I can now look forward to having heat on the bus for the rest of the summer. Now I know summer has arrived in Las Vegas.
This week has not been a good one for me. All week-long I’ve been hounded like an animal. The woman upstairs, who sprays me with pesticide non-stop, pushed me and I fell to the ground. I landed on my back. I was going to call the police and complain, but it would have been a waste of time. She had a friend with her who would have vouched for her. He would have told the cops that she didn’t do anything to me. And the cop would have shown up and treated me like a criminal.
The pushing occurred because I told her never to speak to me the way she had. She’s constantly throwing cigarette butts in front of my apartment. She doesn’t even put the ashes out. She throws them down lit. A few times, I’ve almost gotten a burn. So I got angry and threw the cigarettes up to where she lives. She came running down, screamed at me and told me to pick up the cigarettes. I told her I wasn’t picking up anything. She swore up and down that she hadn’t thrown them down. I hadn’t seen her throw the cigarettes down that day, but I’ve seen her on other days. So since I hadn’t seen her, I went upstairs and picked up the butts. She followed me downstairs and told me to pick up some feces someone had put in front of my apartment I was going to pick up the feces before she interrupted me, so I picked up the feces. Not because she told me, but because I was going to do it, anyway. If I left the feces outside, my apartment would have been overrun with ants and roaches. That’s why they’re always leaving feces in front of my apartment.
The next day, as I was on my way out, I saw her. I told her never to speak to me the way she had. That’s when she came toward me and pushed me. I tried to stop myself from falling, but the gravel underneath my feet was too slippery and I went down. She and her friend laughed.
I went into the office and complained to the Manager. The Manager is involved in gang stalking, too. She did say, though, that she would talk to her. I told the Manager not to say anything to the woman. I was informing her of what happened. The woman from upstairs was obviously drunk and very high. I figured it was in my best interest not to make too much of a fuss. Who knows what she would have done to me? But from now on, I will file a complaint no matter who is around to back her up.
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